**Overhearing My Sister-in-Laws Scheme to Steal My Flat I Gave Her a Taste of Her Own Medicine**
Emily shoved the dirty plates into the dishwasher and hit the quick-wash button. Friday nights roast had been a hitOliver demolished her beef Wellington, and even Charlotte, who usually turned her nose up at anything “that upstart” cooked (as she referred to Emily behind her back), helped herself to seconds.
Off for a shower, Oliver called from the hall. Got footie with the lads tomorrowneed my beauty sleep.
Go on, then, Emily waved him off, scrubbing down the worktop.
Charlotte lounged in the living room, glued to her phone. Shed turned up the night beforeno warning, as usualwith a mountain of shopping bags and her trademark scowl. Just popping in for the weekend, shed said. Again.
Fancy a cuppa? Emily asked, leaning into the doorway.
No, Charlotte snapped, not looking up.
Emily shrugged and returned to the kitchen. Three years of marriage had taught her to brush off her sister-in-laws barbs. Oliver always said, Chars just pricklyshell come round. Dont take it to heart.
The shower hissed to life. Emily flicked the kettle on and reached for her favourite mugthen froze. Charlottes voice, low but sharp, carried from the sofa.
Mum, hi Yeah, at theirs No, she served up her usual slop Listen, I spoke to the solicitor.
Emilys grip tightened. Charlotte dropped to a whisper, but the words slithered into the kitchen all the same.
Yes, through the courts Since Nan left the flat to Oliver, not both of them That idiot hasnt a clue she can be struck off the deeds Ollyll sign anything if you spin it right
The mug slipped, exploding on the tiles.
What was that? Charlottes voice sharpened.
Dropped a mug, Emily lied, ice flooding her veins.
The flattheir three-bed in Kensington, a wedding gift from Olivers nan. For you two to start your life, shed said. And now this viper planned to boot her out?
Classic, Charlotte appeared in the doorway. Butterfingers, as usual.
Got distracted, Emily bent to gather shards, grateful Charlotte couldnt see her face.
Use the dustpan, for Gods sake.
Emily obeyed, hands trembling.
Why the shakes? Charlotte squinted. Its just a mug.
Startled me, Emily muttered.
Right. Our delicate little daisy, Charlotte snorted, flouncing off.
One thought looped in Emilys head: *They want me out. Thats why shes here.*
Oliver emerged, whistling.
Mug casualty? He grinned. Weve got stacks of em.
Yeah, Emily forced a smile.
He kissed her head and vanished into the bedroom.
She didnt sleep a wink. Oliver snored; she stared at the ceiling. Tell him? He adored his sister. Confront her mother-in-law? She was clearly in on it. Nothis was hers to fix. But how?
At dawn, she crept to the kitchen, hands shaking as she fumbled the coffee.
Think, she whispered.
Her eyes landed on a solicitors card tucked under a fridge magnetMr. Thompson, whod helped their neighbour with a messy inheritance. She dialled.
Mr. Thompson? Emily Whitmore here, neighbour of Mrs. Higgins I need advice. Urgently. One oclock? Brilliant.
Oliver shuffled in, pillow-creased.
Up early? He pecked her cheek.
Couldnt sleep. Olly, Im meeting a friend todayLizzie. Ages since we caught up.
Lizzie? He yawned.
From uni.
Right. Im taking Char to the cinema. Her idea.
*Of course it was*, Emily thought.
The solicitors office reeked of leather and espresso. Mr. Thompson, a balding man in tortoiseshell glasses, listened intently.
The flat was a gift from your husbands grandmother. Are you on the deeds?
Registered there after the wedding.
And the ownership documents?
Pardon?
The Land Registry records. Whose names on it?
Emily blinked. Oliver handled all that.
Mr. Thompson sighed. First, confirm ownership. If its solely your husbandstrouble. If jointhis sisters out of luck.
How?
Request a title register online or at the council. Today.
Emily returned, steel-spined. Charlottes heels tripped her in the hall.
There you are! Charlotte smirked. We wondered where youd got to.
With a friend, Emily said evenly.
Went to the flicks with Olly. Charlotte leaned against the wall. Still loves those dreadful action films.
Emily breezed past. In the bedroom, she pulled up the Land Registry site, paid the fee, and waited.
That night, Oliver snored; Charlottes guest room was silent. The email arrived. Her fingers shook as she opened it.
**Proprietor: Whitmore, Oliver James.**
Her stomach dropped. Charlotte was rightthe flat was his alone. Fear curdled into fury. *Not happening.*
At dawn, she rang Mr. Thompson.
Ive been registered there almost three years, she whispered.
Then youve rights, he said. Joint assetsfurniture, renovationscount too. Got receipts?
Every one.
Gather proof. And dont sign *anything* they hand you.
Two days of fake smiles followed. She dug out receiptsthe sofa, the boiler, the kitchen refit. Scanned bank transfers, their prenup.
On Monday, Charlotte announced, Staying the week. Surprise holiday.
Stay as long as you like! Oliver beamed.
Emilys jaw ached from clenching.
That evening, Charlottes hissed call floated down the hall:
Mum, its sorted Ollyll sign Shes clueless
Emilys blood boiled. *Game on.*
The next day, she took leave, visited a notary, then the council. By evening, she had a fat folder and a plan.
Darling, lets invite your parents this weekend, she said over dinner.
Charlottes head jerked up.
Brilliant! Oliver lit up. Char, Mumll be chuffed youre here.
Lovely, Charlotte ground out.
Saturday, Emily cooked like her life depended on it. Roast beef, Yorkshire puddings, sticky toffee puddingthe works. *Last supper*, she thought bitterly.
By six, the table groaned. Olivers parents arrivedGeoffrey and Margaret. Margarets smile didnt reach her eyes.
You look well, Emily.
Ta, Emily smiled back.
Once seated, Oliver raised his wine.
To family!
To family, Emily echoed.
Charlotte caught her eye and smirked. *Not for long.*
Actually, Emily said brightly, theres something we need to discuss.
All eyes swung to her.
Oliver, I overheard Charlotte and your mum plotting.
Silence. Charlotte paled.
What? Oliver frowned.
To convince you to transfer the flat into your name only and boot me out.
Rubbish! Margaret spluttered.
Heard it clear as day. Emilys voice was steady. Charlotte said, That idiot doesnt know she can be removed, and Oliver will sign anything if you phrase it right.
Charlotte shot up. You were *eavesdropping*?
Overheard while cleaning. But the point isyou want me homeless.
*Your* home? Margaret scoffed. Nan left it to Oliver!
Em, this is mad, Oliver took her hand.
Here. Emily slid the folder over.
Oliver flipped throughreceipts, bank statements, a solicitors letter.
Whats this?
Proof, Emily said. Every penny Ive put into this flat. And this she tapped the solicitors note, confirms my rights.
Charlottes face drained.
You *lawyered up*? she hissed.
The minute I heard your plan, Emily said. I wont lose a home Ive poured three years into.
Oliver stared at his sister. Char. Mum. Is this true?
Margaret tittered. Darling, we just
*Just what?* Emily cut in. Schemed to con your own son?
Dont speak to my mother like that! Charlotte shrieked.
Dont *plot to make me homeless*! Emily shot back.
Enough! Oliver slammed the table. Charlotte
